


The Language of the Soul

by WanderingBandurria



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Adventure & Romance, Feelings Realization, First Kiss, Fluff, Getting Together, In the context of the HP Universe, M/M, Magical Bond, Magical Realism, Marauders Era (Harry Potter), Mild Language, Music, One Shot, wolfstar
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-12
Updated: 2020-05-12
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:14:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24144964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WanderingBandurria/pseuds/WanderingBandurria
Summary: It starts with Remus hearing music in his head. Well, it's not properly music, but something like a shadow of it.Then, Remus runs into Sirius playing the piano in an empty classroom, and it all makes sense.Until it doesn't.
Relationships: Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Comments: 25
Kudos: 126





	The Language of the Soul

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LikeABellThroughTheNight](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LikeABellThroughTheNight/gifts).



> Hello! So this fic is a gift for the lovely LikeABellThroughTheNight, who's kind and dedicated comments help me a lot during these stressful times. Her premise for this fic just sent my imagination flying and I ended up writing this fluffy weird fic. I hope you enjoy this final version and thank you so much (again) for all your support and love. Thank you, baby (xD).
> 
> All my gratefulness goes to the lovely beta of this fic, LikeABellThroughTheNight, who beta'd her own gift, ha. Still, English is not my first language so any mistake left is mine. Please be gentle, but let me know if you spot any mistake so I can improve my writing.
> 
> And with that, thank you so much for reading! please leave a comment if you can (anything is always appreciated! your thoughts about the fic, ideas you had while reading, music that you listened to while reading it, anything!), it would mean the world to me.

\---

In the beginning, it’s like a whisper. Remus tries to hum to it, tries to understand what it is that makes his heart jump, but he can’t put his finger on it. Well, he knows it’s music, but it feels like it’s coming from another reality that makes it impossible for him to gather the notes and identify the instrument. _Maybe it’s a magical instrument_ , he reasons, because his father never talked about wizards’ music, even though his eyes went glassy every time Hope or Remus played on the old, battered piano that Hope’s cousin left her after her death. 

The _almost_ sound becomes more present as the weeks pass - every time he is doing his rounds, it beats inside his chest and makes his breathing speed up. He still can’t fully understand it but it makes him feel something deep and ineffable. Almost sad, almost happy, neither properly. 

By the third week, Remus is happy for the weird company that the music provides during his rounds. He smiles as soon as he starts feeling it, and dismisses his doubts convincing himself that he is in a magical school after all, and that weirder things have happened in his five years at Hogwarts. _Maybe this is a spell cast on prefects to make them feel less alone during their rounds_ , he thinks. Yet, he doesn’t mention the music to Lily or any other Prefect. He can’t explain it, but it’s something that’s only his. Or at least, he prefers thinking that. So he keeps his mouth shut, and hums during his rounds, not paying attention to the shadows hiding behind suits of armour and dark corners, nor the couples behind tapestries. His attention is on his heart and the soft, soft music that he can almost taste in his mouth. 

Sometimes, he feels like he can almost recognize it - so familiar, and yet, it keeps eluding him.

\---

He gets into the classroom by mere chance. For the first time in the year, the music has been silent inside of him, so Remus is grumpy and nervous after an hour of rounds. Sometimes he is almost sure that a song is about to start, but then there’s only silence. So when he sees a couple scurrying by a secret passway, he is ready to do his work. He takes another passway a few paintings ahead that he knows will lead him to the same exit point in less time.

Only that he _is_ in a magical castle that this time decides to take him somewhere else. 

He emerges from a fake wall that becomes solid after him, expecting to see a well-known corridor that takes people directly to the astronomy tower, but instead, he is in a tower at the other side of the castle, where he has never been before since all of its classrooms are closed. 

His feet start walking without him realizing it, his heart in his mouth. He opens a door a few feet to his left and is hit by the sound that is released after a silencing spell being lifted. 

Suddenly, every piece falls into place. The door closes behind him, and he barely registers the buzz of magic that indicates that the silencing spell is back in place. His eyes search in the dark, trying to find the origin of the music - the music that he has been hearing for the past month, that is suddenly clear and discernible. 

His eyes find the large, dark piano in a corner of the room. He doesn’t feel stupid - that’s not the word, at least - because he knows that he couldn’t recognize the music before because of the magic, but he feels quite weird when everything unfolds in his mind and clicks, and he can match the soft _almost_ sound that has been his company for the past few weeks with music, proper music, that is embedded with Sirius’ magic.

He doesn’t think that Sirius has meant to connect his music with him. There’s something raw and uncontrolled about how all of this has happened. This is not a plot to make him go somewhere where they are doing a prank, this is not a creative - although unnecessary - employment of the brilliant, beautiful magic that only Sirius is capable of pulling together to show off. This is heartbreaking magic that makes Remus want to cry and smile and send his own magic to warm Sirius.

Remus closes his eyes and lets his weight fall on the door at his back. He barely breathes while Sirius’ fingers roam across the piano keys, and he can feel every fibre of his body reacting to the music that envelopes him. 

He opens his eyes after a while, feeling the pull of magic getting stronger. He can see the softness of the music reflected on Sirius’ face; there, instead of the usual determination, is tenderness and shyness - and maybe self-doubt. Sirius’ eyes are on the piano, and they flutter almost closed in accordance with the music, like he can hear the rest of the orchestra that should be accompanying him. 

Remus can feel the music resonating in his ribs, in his chest, getting under his skin and making waves through his body, shooting through his back, his neck, his tongue. 

Sirius looks up directly into his eyes for what feels like an eternity, but can’t be more than a second, as the movement intensifies. His dark eyes pierce like the music, and there’s no surprise in them, just melancholy and softness. Remus can feel his breath hitch, his feet threatening to give up. The music gives into the tension and goes back into tender intimacy. 

It’s at that moment that Remus understands that he is meant to be here. That maybe Sirius didn’t intend to call him, but that this is where they were supposed to end up. He can feel the pull of the music and magic on his body, and Sirius’ eyes are stamped on his mind, even when they are not connected to his own now. 

He lets himself be dragged back into the _concerto_ , his eyes closing again of their own accord and his fingers playing with his chin, cheeks and lips, trying to ground himself in something real like his own warm skin.

When the last note fades into a _pianissimo_ , Remus opens his eyes, holding in the tears, all of his skin tingling. Sirius’ face is cast towards the piano, dark in the night. Remus blinks slowly, breathes, and without a noise, opens the door and leaves the room.

\---

For the next few months, Remus lives a double life. His daily life with James, Sirius and Peter is pretty much the same as always; jokes and banter and pranks, worrying about coursework and the war; a lot of Prefects meetings for him and Quidditch practices for James and Sirius and Merlin knows what Peter does in his spare time. Full moons are filled with howling and games with Prongs, Padfoot and Wormtail, and the mornings after marked by pain and relief for the lack of life-threatening injuries. It’s not like it means something that he can feel Sirius’ eyes on his back when he is leaving a room, or that he finds himself staring at the back of Sirius’ head in some boring lessons.

But on the nights that he has rounds, he ends up being irrevocably pulled into the music room with Sirius, who’s always playing a piece that Remus has never heard before. He thinks it might be wizards’ music, because he can feel a deep pool of magic in the pit of his stomach as soon as the notes hit him. Or maybe it’s just the way that Sirius plays.

They don’t talk about their encounters - not in the music room, nor in their daily lives. Remus gets into the room quietly and leaves in the same way. 

Sirius’ eyes always connect with his at some point of the night - pain, nostalgia and affection making them shine, so Remus knows that it is okay that he keeps going back.

He’s not sure why, but it’s okay. It’s where they are supposed to be.

\---

Remus is sitting on the floor, his legs stretched and crossed at the ankles when the door swings open, making him fall back. 

Sirius stops mid-phrase, the notes still resonating in the air when a loud “whoops!” comes from above Remus’ head, followed by giggles and the sound of footsteps running away.

Remus jumps on his feet, suddenly remembering his job as a Prefect, and is about to mumble an apology and chase the couple when he feels a new pull at his stomach. He looks at Sirius, who looks back, his brows knitting together. Remus feels a sudden rush of magic through his body, and Sirius averts his eyes, his frown deepening. Remus is paralyzed, rooted to his feet. It’s almost in slow motion that he sees Sirius standing up, barely avoiding overturning the bench, and walk briskly past him.

He just hears him mumble “Sorry, have to go” while he scurries through the door, and Remus can barely make sense of anything.

He stays put, confusion bubbling inside of him, because _something is wrong_ , because _Sirius talked,_ because _magic betrayed them_ , allowing someone else into the classroom, and maybe Remus was wrong all along and this wasn’t meant for him, wasn’t their secret, wasn’t their private universe.

_Fucking magic_ , he sighs. On his way out, he almost gives into the temptation to slam the door shut. 

He doesn’t do it, of course. He closes it carefully and starts walking back to the corridor where he is supposed to be around this time of the night.

\---

He knows that something is _actually_ wrong when he starts feeling the soft thrum of music in his chest at breakfast while Sirius and James throw grapes into Peter’s mouth. 

His eyes fly to Sirius, but he looks unfazed while elbowing James in the ribs. Sirius was already in his bed when Remus got back into the dormitory after his rounds, and during the morning he’s been acting like nothing happened - like he didn’t acknowledge Remus’ existence in his magic bubble with those words before leaving the room, like the precarious equilibrium between them hasn’t been shattered into pieces.

_Oh, fuck you_ , Remus thinks, while sipping his tea, his eyes narrowing, burning holes on Sirius. The prick still doesn’t look at him.

The music gets louder inside of him, but if Sirius is going to ignore him, he can ignore the music too. He is capable of ignoring much, much worse things. 

He takes a book, feeling nauseated with the way his heartbeat synchronizes with the music. 

Doesn’t matter, he’s okay. 

\---

Remus sputters and coughs after being grabbed by the collar of his shirt and into a secret passway. He turns and there, not even two inches away, is Sirius. 

Oh, what would he give to have the courage to slap him right now.

“What?” he barks.

“‘What?’ ‘What’, is all you have to say? You know ‘what’, Remus! We need to make it stop, I can’t stand it anymore. The fucking music doesn’t let me hear _shit_ and I can barely function!”

Remus smiles sweetly.

“Oh, poor Padfoot, is your music bothering you? Mh, that sounds so hard. It’s not like I already puked two times today because of the dizziness that it’s making me feel, nor like it’s taking me double the time to get anywhere because every stair keeps taking me to your fucking music room,” he pauses, trying to control the anger that seeps into his words. He takes a deep breath, feeling guilty at Sirius’ troubled expression. He looks genuinely contrite and lost. The music turns gloomy and sad, and Remus would be laughing if it wasn’t so loud inside of him. He sighs. “Okay. I’m sorry, Padfoot. I really am. I’m sick of it too, and I’ve tried everything to stop it - every spell and counterspell I could find in the library. Did you hear it before Monday? Did you use magic while playing that might have backfired and could explain what’s going on?”

They lock eyes, and Sirius shakes his head slowly.

“No, it started on Monday for me. Could you hear my music before then?” Remus nods shortly. Sirius nods back. “I promise you, Moony, I have no idea what’s going on. I’m so sorry of what this has put you through, I don’t -” he cuts himself in the middle of the sentence. “Remus, can you talk some more, please?”

Remus frowns, puzzled. His chest is beating to the rhythm of the sad music, but it has also filled with warm butterflies after Sirius’ weirdly empathetic apology. He clears his throat, caught off guard by these sensations.

“Okay, I can talk,” he says softly, feeling self-conscious with Sirius’ eyes fixed on his mouth. He looks to the floor, trying to remember _any_ word, but they have suddenly deserted him. “Uh, words. I have them. Mh, words, yeah, I like them, I’m usually good with them. I - I, well, I’m not sure what you want me to say, Sirius, this is not as easy as it sounds…”

“Moony,” Sirius stops him, his voice filled with laughter. “Oh, Merlin, Moony,” and he actually laughs a bit. “I mean, that was _adorable_ , but okay, I won’t torture you with it right now because _I can hear you,_ Remus. Hear you over the music, I mean.” He sobers up, his eyes darkening. “You are the only person,” and his gaze is so intense that Remus has to look down to the floor again. “When James talks, the music goes really loud, and I can only try and guess what he’s saying by reading his lips. Oh, and that weird mist appears when the music intensifies, so it gets really confusing because it keeps twirling and changing colour while I try to understand what people are saying,” he taps his upper lip, thinking. 

“Wait, what? what mist?” Remus asks, curious, because he hasn’t seen anything like that, and this sounds promising. He can feel his heartbeat intensify. He realizes that he, too, can hear Sirius pretty clearly.

“Oh,” Sirius says, looking thoughtful. “Well, there’s this fog that only I can see then, I suppose. It’s not always there - it’s not here right now, for example. It’s usually purple and it envelops me and creates some kind of trail, and no spell work vanishes it. I guess it can be guiding me to the music room too, now that you mention being taken there by the stairs.” 

Remus sighs. He’s pretty sure now that magic has been trying to bring them back to the music room. He feels a bit hurt that Sirius has been avoiding all of this for four days in which the music has only become louder and more annoying. And of course, he knows that Sirius hasn’t been to the music room, because he has been going every night since the music started playing day and night.

Remus pushes the disappointment down. The piano in his rib cage starts a sweet Minuet.

“I can hear you too, by the way,” he says softly and clumsily, because he realized that he didn’t mention it, and it sounded like something important to bring up in his mind, but now, after saying it, he just feels ridiculous. He dares to look up. Sirius is still so close, and he can feel the comforting warmth of his body calming him down. He takes a deep breath to try and think something coherent. “Okay. Let’s figure this out. Let’s gather what we both have been experiencing this week so that we can stop the music.”

Sirius grins and grabs his hand, squeezing it, making Remus’ heart jump just in time to the lively _tempo_ of the Minuet.

“I knew you would get your words back, Moony,” he laughs, making Remus flush a bit, and _oh God, what the hell, why is he blushing_ , “come on, let’s shut my fucking piano up.”

\---

They decide to go to the music room that afternoon. They manage to avoid Prongs - Remus is not sure why Sirius hasn’t dragged him into this adventure, but he won’t ask questions about it - and Peeves, and they are already in the dark passageway that Remus has been using to get to the music room, when he feels it.

At first, he panics. It feels like the wolf, somehow. Something he can’t control that takes over him and makes him feel restless and disconnected. He’s not sure what it is, because the music is still there, mostly guided by Sirius’ excitement at the idea that this might be over, so Remus just starts walking faster, until they are in the corridor that leads to the music classroom. 

He feels a cold chill on his back and suddenly, they are surrounded by a purple fog. He hears Sirius gasp at his side.

It’s not _exactly_ as Sirius described it; the fog _is_ purple, deep in some areas and almost transparent in others, but it also shines and twinkles like it holds a thousand fireflies.

Remus is in awe. He forgets about the chill on his nape. He can only watch the mist. He turns, smiling, towards Sirius, only to find that Sirius is not by his side. 

And Remus is not on the floor.

With a turn of his stomach, he realizes that he is on the ceiling, upside down. Above his head is the floor and the door to enter the music room, and there, watching Remus with an open mouth, is Sirius. 

“Oh, fuck, Sirius!” he yelps when he sees the floor above him moving like a muggle escalator. Sirius tries to run towards him. They both try to jump to get in the plane that the other one is. Sirius is drifting further and further away, and even though Remus is running after him, the floor is too fast for him. 

He takes a final leap, his arms outstretched, but he just watches with frustration as Sirius’ fingers, that were holding to a corner, disappear. 

He falls on his belly on the top of a huge staircase. He screams in surprise and recoils, barely managing to crouch before a wall appears at his back, pushing him forward.

He lands at the bottom of the stairs, thanking God that he didn’t break his neck. He stands up slowly, rubbing his ribs, and then realizes he’s in a room full of people. 

He can’t recognize anyone, but everyone is in fancy dress robes. Remus takes a step back. The stairs are no longer there, and he is pushed back into the crowd by a new wave of people. He feels dizzy and lost and nobody pays any attention to him. The colours of the cloaks mix on his eyes.

The crowd disperses, and Remus is suddenly alone in the middle of a big, old dance room. He blinks, watching marvelled the colourful lights that dance above his head like fairies. 

He can’t remember much about anything, but he doesn’t care. He’s happy and calm and everything is just _right_. He hums to himself in tune to the beautiful music that he can hear, and the lights seem to come alive and dance to it, yellow, blue and green.

He starts walking around the room, following the different colours on the ceiling. Without realizing it, he goes into a second room, and a third, and a fourth. They are all filled with different lights that sometimes form patterns, other times change size or shape. Sometimes they are diffuse, almost like a shiny, glittery fog, and sometimes they are well defined, like gems on the ceiling. 

In the fifth room, he stops, surprised, when he sees a boy with dark, dark hair. He doesn’t know him, he thinks, but he seems nice, so he’s about to go and say hi so that they can explore the rooms together when he notices that the boy isn’t alone.

There’s a girl with him, and they are laughing. She touches his arm softly, intimately, and he grins handsomely and kisses her.

Remus feels something tightening in his chest, and he shifts nervously on his feet, feeling awkward and inadequate. He didn’t mean to peek, and he feels like he’s intruding. There’s a weird feeling that he can’t identify in his stomach. He doesn’t feel sad, not properly. It’s not that he cares, because he doesn’t know either of them, so why should he? 

It’s just that something feels a bit off, like everything has been moved a few inches to the left so that the world is slightly off its axis. 

He steps back, slowly, managing to open the door and go back into the last room. He looks at the couple in the middle of the room; the soft yellow and pink lights casting strange shadows on their faces. 

He closes the door softly, sighs relieved, and turns around. 

He’s not back in the room that he should be, but he’s in a new one, lightened with torches. There are no colourful lights, and he feels a chill on his back. There’s a weird fog that makes everything look grey. The music that he’s been hearing all this time is still beautiful, so he thinks that everything must be fine. He just needs to calm down.

He swallows a scream and hides behind a pillar when he sees himself come into the room by a side door. He might not remember much, but he knows about time travel and its paradoxes just enough to know to be careful. 

He looks happy. He’s laughing and pulling someone by the hand into the room, and he blushes when he realizes that he’s _flirting_. He doesn’t flirt much, he thinks, but this version of himself looks comfortable and self-confident. He - the _other_ version of him, the one in the middle of the room - takes the hand of the other person, and oh, _it’s a boy_ , and he shouldn’t be surprised because deep down he always knew, didn’t he? but somehow it’s different seeing himself from the outside, smiling and laughing at jokes and gently stroking the hair off someone’s forehead.

It’s not the same boy that was in the other room, of that much he’s sure; and something like disappointment bubbles in his stomach.

With a lump in his throat, he takes a step back, pushing his weight against a cold wall, trying to calm himself. He’s not sure why he’s upset, but he can feel his mouth twitching in discomfort.

He actually screams this time when the wall at his back turns, flipping him over his head and making him fall face first, losing all the air and getting scratched by twigs and rocks.

He doesn’t have time to think much about the flipping wall - and it wouldn’t make any difference, because he’s not sure of what is normal and what’s not - because the boy from the first room is kneeling in front of him, laughing, and gently helping him to get back on his feet. 

He grins back, not sure why, because _he just fell on his face_ , but he doesn’t really mind, not with those grey eyes on his. He covers his face with a hand to protect himself from the bright light of the sun. He’s in the middle of a forest, all muddy and with dry leaves sticking to his clothes, with this gorgeous boy that doesn’t stop smiling.

The boy gets closer, taking a twig out of his hair, and Remus smiles, happily. And then the boy is embracing him, gentle and strong, sinking his nose into Remus’ hair, and he can feel his own heart going crazy, while the music stays calm. 

The boy pulls back a bit, his hands moving to Remus’ face, stroking his cheek with his thumb while he looks deep into his eyes.

And then he turns into a dog.

Remus laughs. The dog barks and invites him to play, so Remus just does that, the soft piano a bit out of place in their crazy chase.

They run through the trees, green and brown shapes surrounding them, soft morning light bathing the leaves and trunks and making everything fresh and new.

The dog goes behind a huge tree, and as Remus follows him, he finds himself in a big classroom, with wide windows that let in the sunset light, red, pink and orange and furious.

He stops in his tracks, regaining his breath after the run. He’s a bit overwhelmed with the sudden change of scenery, even when he is starting to get used to these quick shifts. 

In front of the classroom is the boy, hair wild and dark eyes worried. The piano playing inside of him starts a dark melody.

“Remus!” the boy yells when he sees him, and he suddenly understands that that’s him, that’s his name. The boy runs towards him, his face full of relief.

The music turns erratic, and Remus doesn’t understand his worry, because they were in the forest just a second ago, but he doesn’t want to see the boy preoccupied, so he meets him halfway through the room, and before the boy can say anything else, Remus hugs him. His arms encase the other boy’s waist, and his hands pull him tightly against him. 

He realizes that, somehow, he has missed him, so he sighs, and lets his head fall against the other boy’s shoulder, his nose snuggling against his neck. 

The boy goes rigid for a second before hugging him back, his fingers pressing Remus’ back. Neither of them says a word, the music slowing down and prolonging the moment. He grabs Remus more firmly when the floor at their feet starts melting. Remus doesn’t mind. They fall through the floor slowly, like they are in a thick drop of amber. 

Their feet touch the new floor that is hard stone instead of wood, and the ceiling goes back to its position. They are still hugging, but Remus opens his eyes for a second, pushing his forehead against the boy’s neck, peeking through his eyelashes. 

They are in a dungeon. And there’s a purple fog surrounding them. He saw a lot of lights during this day, but he doesn’t remember purple.

And suddenly, he remembers. He remembers who he is, and realizes that he’s in Sirius’ arms, quite snuggly.

He jumps back, feeling his cheeks and neck flushing.

“Oh, fuck, Sirius!” he stumbles with the words. “Sorry, sorry, I forgot who I was and you were there and I don’t know what I was-”

He cuts himself off, the smug expression on Sirius’ face going sour when they realize that the floor is starting to move again.

“Oh no, not this fuckery again!” Sirius says angrily.

Before he can even blink, Sirius is the one on the ceiling. But now they are in the dungeons, so the ceiling is quite low. Remus yells “jump towards me when I’m under you!” and as soon as he manages to be under Sirius, he jumps as high as he can, extending an arm up.

They clasp their hands in the last second when Remus thinks they are going to miss each other, and then they fall - Remus is not sure in which direction, but they are _falling_ , and he curses when he realizes that they are going down from a staircase, _yet again_. 

They end up as a pile of limbs, bruised but thankfully in one piece, at the bottom of the stairs and in front of the feet of a very surprised James Potter and a startled Peter Pettigrew.

After a second when the only thing that happens is that Sirius lets out a pitiful groan and Remus rubs his head as best as he can with Sirius half on top of him, James grins smugly and says “Well, gentlemen, what’s the meaning of this? went on a little adventure without your dear old friends, hm?”

\---

In silent accord, they keep close to their friends for the time being. Even when the music gets louder with them, at least they are not being dragged all around different planes of reality. They manage to get Peter and James off their backs with a few quick jokes about their fall at their feet, and if they look at them a bit puzzled when they avoid eye contact between each other and blush when their eyes inevitably meet, they don’t really care, as long as no further questions are asked.

But things just get more and more ridiculous from then on. Remus is on his bed, resting for a bit, actively ignoring all the thoughts about what this little adventure might say about his feelings for Sirius, while Peter talks to him - not that Remus has any idea what’s he talking about, the music in his chest too loud to hear anything else - when James and Sirius get back from grabbing some food from the kitchens. And it’s just absurd, because when Sirius opens the door to the bedroom, the music goes all _romantic ballad_ , and they catch each other’s eye, expressions blank before bursting into laughter, to Peter’s and James’ exasperation. That night, they manage to sleep with a sweet lullaby in their ears that turns into a bright march as soon as Sirius wakes up, making Remus groan with frustration from his bed.

They laugh really loud, earning a reprimand from Professor Binns - not that they can hear it -, when a short, bubbly dance starts in their chests when the teacher talks about Goblin banquets and dances, making Sirius turn in his seat and wobble his eyebrows at Remus. Remus is thinking that maybe they can survive this, have fun together and make the music a part of their life, when, while running from one classroom to another, he stumbles on his feet just to be caught by his shoulders by Sirius in the last second. The soft andante that the piano was following goes suddenly silent when their eyes meet. 

Remus could just stay there forever, his heart beating hard in his chest and Sirius’ eyes full of surprise making him feel - well, _real_ and _seen._

“Are you guys okay?” Peter’s voice breaks the silence, making the piano return at full strength, and Remus jump and start cleaning imaginary dust off his robes.

“Uh? yeah, yeah, I almost tripped, thank you for catching me, mate” he adds, his eyes on his hands and robes, and his voice squeaky. He just cringes at it, and the awkward _mate_ that he added, not sure why.

“No problem, _mate”_ answers Sirius, his voice a bit choked, but Remus doesn’t have the nerve to look at him. He just nods and mumbles something about his next class, and walks away quickly.

By the end of the day, James and Peter are done with their clinginess, so they both make excuses and leave them alone in the dorm. Remus thinks that they probably believe that they are cross with each other or something like that. He just can’t tell them to _please don’t leave_ , because that would mean explaining things that he doesn’t know how to explain, like moving floors, visions about Sirius, and random staircases from where he keeps falling.

So, mustering all his courage, he goes and sits by Sirius’ side on the window sill of their dorm. He takes a deep breath and puts a reassuring hand on his friend’s shoulder, feeling him turn to look at him. 

Remus doesn’t have other words to describe the music than _dramatic_ , but he can’t say that to Sirius, so he bites down his laughter and keeps his eyes on the sunset while he speaks.

“Are you okay?” he manages to ask gently.

“Mh,” Sirius says, noncommittally. “At least the world is not turning upside down right now, is it? I’m not sure what else we can do now, and well… I’m just a bit tired, that’s it. I’m tired that I can’t hear James. I’m tired of avoiding people so that they don’t realize I can’t hear them. And at the same time, this is kind of nice. The music, I mean. In moments like this, with the silence and the sunset… I can almost imagine myself getting used to it,” he adds softly.

Remus lets his hand drop from his friend’s shoulder, and looks up to the sky.

“Yeah, you are right. It’s nice. But I’m not sure we can live our whole lives like this, Padfoot. Maybe,” and he tries to find the right words, because he can’t deal with an upset Sirius right now, bringing angry music to his already tired heart. “Maybe it’s time to ask for help, Pads. I’m sure James would be happy to. Peter, too.”

Sirius goes quiet. Remus just waits. Sirius sighs and Remus can feel him shift nervously.

“Can we give it a few more days to try on our own?” he asks in a small voice that reminds Remus of the kid he was when they arrived at Hogwarts. “I know you are right, Moony, I really do, but please,” and his voice is so vulnerable that Remus has to look at him, surprised. Sirius is looking at his hands on his knees, brows furrowed and lips thigh. “It’s just that James doesn’t know that I’ve kept playing the piano, and I know he’ll make a big deal out of it. He’ll tell me that I should have known better, that it’s something that links me to the Blacks. He wouldn’t understand how important it’s for me, he would only see what he thinks it is. My upbringing. The pureblood traditions. The past, the blood and the pain. He wouldn’t want to know about meaning, and souls, and love.”

They get quiet, Remus trying to process everything that Sirius has just said, his heartbeat loud in his ears. The last words resound inside of him, above the music. _Meaning, soul, love. Meaning, soul, love. Meaning, soul, love…_

“Okay,” he hears himself saying. “We’ll try to solve this by ourselves, Padfoot. We _are_ going to solve this,” he adds when his eyes meet Sirius’, and even when he feels dizzy, he doesn’t lower his gaze, but takes Sirius’ hand into his, and gives it a short squeeze. 

Sirius nods and squeezes back, a small smile on his lips.

Remus is sure that James would understand. He might be a bit hard at the beginning, and Remus does feel a bit nervous that all this weirdness might be linked to the Blacks, so James’ self-confident presence would be great right now. But at the same time, he’s happy that this is their adventure. He feels nervous, yes, but he knows that they can crack this down. He and Sirius can do this.

\---

Remus feels like he just managed to fall asleep, after tossing on his bed _not_ thinking about his feelings for boys and Sirius’es and _meaning, souls_ and _love_ , when he is woken up by Sirius shaking his shoulder softly. The music is tense, dissonant, and makes Remus tremble.

Without a sound, he gets up. Sirius is by the window, and as soon as Remus gets to his side, he can see the purple fog covering the castle grounds. He shivers.

“We have to try to get to the music room again,” Sirius says. “Maybe the fog won’t be so strong inside of the castle right now.”

Remus nods.

“We need Prongs’ cloak,” he says, biting his lip.

Sirius nods, and as quietly as possible, goes towards James’ trunk.

“If you need my cloak, you’ll have to let me go with you this time.”

They freeze at James’ voice. Sirius sighs.

“Can you promise you won’t ask what’s going on?”

James’ head pokes out of the curtains. He looks at Sirius with steady eyes that probably don’t see much more than shadows without his glasses.

“Yes, I can do that. I trust you if you think it’s better that I don’t know anything.”

Sirius looks a bit ashamed. Remus can see him battling his feelings, realizing that doubting James’ capacity of understanding was unfair. 

“I promise I’ll explain to you later, Prongs. But we need to leave now.”

They get under the cloak in no time, leaving the room filled only with Peter’s soft snores. 

They are halfway towards the music room when Remus feels the shift - the bite on his neck, the rush of magic in his blood. 

“Fuck,” he mutters, just before hearing James’ mumble something in the same vein and feeling the cloak being pulled off his head. 

“James!” Sirius yells, and when Remus turns, James is on the floor, being surrounded by the purple fog. He takes a step towards him but stops on his tracks.

“Go on, Padfoot! You guys keep going!”

Remus would be laughing if this wasn’t so distressful. James, always the hero. Sirius starts walking towards James, but Remus grabs his arm and gently stops him.

“We have to get to the music room, Padfoot,” he says, urgently. “Otherwise, we’ll forget everything, and that won’t help him.”

Sirius looks angry, but no words come out of his mouth. They look into each other's eyes, and then to James, who looks so calm. The fog is rapidly extending towards them, they don’t have much time to lose. Sirius nods, and grabbing Remus’ hand, starts running towards the music room.

They get to the hallway, breathless, and are about to reach the door handle when it disappears. They turn, startled. The door is at their back. Sirius jumps towards it, but as soon as his hands make contact with the wall, the door is no longer there. 

Remus is ready for the next movement, turning to the ceiling.

“Padfoot, come on! Get on my shoulders!” 

Sirius doesn’t question him. Remus has always been the strongest of them. Sirius jumps onto his back and extends his arm. His fingertips brush the doorknob.

Remus puts a hand on the wall and, breathing in, jumps, feeling his legs and shoulders burn.

“Grab my legs!” Sirius yells, and Remus can feel the pull when Sirius opens the door. The world turns, and suddenly, they are collapsing on the floor, the door in front of them, where it should be.

Sirius gets back on his feet and grabs Remus’ arm to help him stand up, pulling him into the room.

They haven’t talked about what to do once they are in the music room, but Sirius goes to the piano, and Remus stands by the wall beside the door, trying to get his breathing back in order. He can hear his heart thumping with the dissonant music that, somehow, is still playing in his head.

Sirius sits on the tabouret and as soon as his fingers touch the piano keys, the music stops. Remus holds his breath. 

Sirius plays what Remus now recognizes as the first piece that he heard in his mind, in what feels like a lifetime ago, on his first round as a Prefect. The music is sweet and sad, a low tempo that gives space for long silences filled with emotion.

Remus knows when it’s about to end, even though he hasn’t heard the piece before - at least not properly, only the magic-muddled version. His feet start moving on their own while the last notes resound in the room. He’s by Sirius’ side when the song ends, and Sirius looks up at him. They stay like that, looking into each other’s eyes, silence filling the room. 

Remus doesn’t want to get his hopes up. He really doesn’t, but a small smile starts on the corner of his mouth. Sirius grins to him. 

“I think it worked,” Sirius says, standing up.

Remus doesn’t step back. They are almost nose to nose, and Sirius’ eyes flick to his mouth for a second. Remus can feel his blood pumping in his veins, images of these last few days flooding his mind. Sirius playing the piano. Sirius looking at him. Sirius laughing and grabbing his hand. Sirius being vulnerable and open. His own eyes are fixed on Sirius’ mouth.

Sirius leans, and Remus’ mind goes blank.

“Oh, no, no no no, no,” he almost yells when he feels the floor shifting under his feet and the music flooding into his ears. Sirius grabs him by his pyjama shirt and pulls him close, just before they are falling down a stone toboggan. 

Remus’ hand grabs Sirius’ wrist tightly, yet he can’t do anything when they are pulled apart in a bifurcation. He tries to look where Sirius’ pipe goes, but he can’t see much in the darkness. The colourful lights surrounding him are not enough to let him track his friend.

He tumbles to the ground with his heart breaking, desperation bubbling inside of him. He gets up fast, almost tripping, and resisting the urge to yell to the sky, starts running. He’s not sure where he’s going, but _fuck it_ , if nothing makes sense, he won’t try to make sense either.

He runs for at least an hour, stumbling up and down stairs that he has never seen before. He’s tired and angry, his pyjamas, too thin for the cold night, soaking in sweat, the music in his ears calm and sweet. He doesn’t care anymore. He tries to go up, up, up, to where the music room might be, but he can’t reach any end of the castle. He’s about to lose it when he gets into a familiar corridor. It’s not the one leading to the music classroom, but the one leading to the Astronomy tower. 

And yet, somehow, even when he shouldn’t trust his magic, he can feel that he is in the right place. He opens the door and stumbles into the cold night.

Sirius is there, splayed on the floor, looking to the stars. 

“Sirius!” he yells.

The boy on the floor doesn’t look at him, but grins, and points to the shiny star in the sky.

Well, at least Remus knows who’s lost their memory this time.

He approaches Sirius while trying to calm his breathing. He sits at his side, shivering at the touch of the cold stone through his sweat-soaked pyjama bottoms. 

“Padfoot,” he whispers before lying down at Sirius’ side, turning to look at him.

Sirius turns too, smiling. The soft music _is_ beautiful, Remus thinks, feeling the anger inside of him melting down. Sirius looks beautiful in the night. There are no lights up here, except for the stars.

Sirius’ hand reaches towards his face, and Remus feels himself tremble when his fingers make contact with the scar on his jaw. 

“You are cute,” Sirius says with a small smile.

“Cute?” Remus sputters, and Sirius laughs, nodding. 

Remus looks into his eyes, a fond smile escaping him in spite of himself. He takes Sirius’ hand that’s on his face, interwinding his fingers over Sirius’. 

“We need to find James,” he says, softly, knowing that Sirius is not himself right now. He pushes down the sadness at the thought of ending this moment, even when he knows that it’s not really theirs.

Sirius looks at him puzzled for a second, and Remus can see understanding soaking into him.

“James!” Sirius yelps, standing up in almost one motion, pulling Remus up by their joined hands.

“Good to have you back, Padfoot” Remus smiles kindly. 

Sirius gives him a small smile.

“Good to be back, Moony.”

And with that, he pulls Remus through the tower door, back into the castle.

\---

“There!” Sirius yells, pulling Remus with him.

They have been wandering through the castle for a few hours, surrounded by colourful lights and hectic piano music, changing planes of reality, jumping through staircases, sliding through pipelines, climbing walls, getting into classrooms and going out in towers and hallways. Neither of them had lost their memory again, thankfully, but they are tired, confused and angry.

They saw James in a side wall, and he yelled to them that he was alright, but they couldn’t manage to get into the reality plane that he was on. They didn’t found anyone else. Not Mrs. Norris, nor Filch. No one was visible in any painting, no ghost passed them.

And suddenly, they’d seen the purple fog again. Only that this time, it didn’t cover them, but moved away from them. So they started chasing it.

Sirius pulls Remus’ hand again, urging him to follow the mist. They get through a gate and suddenly, they are on the castle grounds. 

Sirius stops, his hand still holding Remus’. They are in front of the lake and they can see the light blue light of the impending dawn. Remus feels the exhaustion washing over him, and he can feel Sirius’ shoulders falling at his side. They stay quiet for what feels like a lifetime, the soft blue spreading through the sky.

“I can’t believe it,” Sirius says softly, his voice cracking the silence. “There’s no way out, is there? We are not any closer to solving this, and we’ve lost James. And for what, so I can play my fucking music?”

Remus squeezes his fingers. Sirius looks at him, sad and heartbroken. Remus doesn’t know what to say. He’s tired and sad and the music in his chest makes him want to cry. Sirius is still looking at him, all vulnerability. His gaze suddenly changes, realization sinking into it.

“So I could play for you,” he says softly, and Remus feels his heart stutter, because does this mean that Sirius regrets playing for him? “This magic, Moony, this magic has been pulling us apart and back together, over and over again. All of this,” he pauses, his voice husky and soft. He turns towards Remus, getting closer, their noses bumping and their foreheads falling together, and Remus is lost, completely lost, his eyes closing at the feeling of Sirius’ warm breath on his skin. “All of this because I needed you there. I wanted you there. All of this so that I could show you who I am.”

Remus’ eyes are already closed, so he can’t see when Sirius leans forward, but he can feel him. He can feel the hesitation, the soft touch of Sirius’ lips over his own. He’s trembling, but not because of the cold anymore.

Sirius pulls away a bit, and Remus opens his eyes. He nods almost imperceptibly, and he can see Sirius swallow before leaning forward again. 

Sirius’s mouth is sweet and warm, and Remus loses track of time as soon as their tongues meet. He chases Sirius’ lips as soon as they leave his, and nibbles on them before kissing him deep and intently. His breathing hitches and the sweet music fades away, replaced by Sirius’ soft breathing and the sensation of his fingernails scratching his nape.

His hands go up to encase Sirius’ face, but before he can touch his cheeks, Sirius is pulling away. 

Remus opens his eyes, and Sirius is no longer there. He’s not in the grounds by the lake either, but he’s back in the music room.

He’s alone, only the piano and him. And he suddenly knows what he needs to do.

So he sits down on the stool, feeling his stomach tightening. He wants, he _needs_ to play too, but his fingers feel numb. He hasn’t played in years, not since he was a kid. His fingertips touch the keys softly, reverently. The first note comes unsure and without enough pressure, but the next one follows easily, his hands moving without him needing to think, a couple of mistakes muddling his clumsy attempt at music, but giving it life, showing everything that he is; hesitation, softness, warmth and strength.

He can feel the chills back on his nape, the sensation that he felt days ago, like the wolf is grabbing him by the neck, the claws taking his shoulders. He can feel the white panic inside of him, but he just pushes through, note after note, letting himself lose control, his eyes fixed on the keys. He can see his finger shake. He can feel the shivers through his back. He can feel the magic surrounding him.

He’s panting when the last note fades away, dizzy and without a thought on his mind. Still shaking, he looks up. And there, by the door, where he always stood during these past few months, is Sirius.

They lock eyes, and Sirius smiles enigmatically.

“Did I call you here?” he asks, not really surprised.

Sirius nods.

“You did it, Moony,” he says softly, walking resolutely towards him.

Remus laughs, almost stumbling into his feet, making the stall fall with a loud thump. He’s so hasty to get to Sirius that he’s almost running. He doesn’t care anymore.

They meet in the middle of the room, and Sirius grabs his face while Remus’ hands pull him by the sides of his body, and they kiss - sweetly, desperately, while still laughing. It should be clumsy and awkward, but it’s not. _It’s not_ , _it’s where they are supposed to be_ , he knows for sure this time. 

There’s only silence surrounding them, sweet and soft.

\---

He smiles at Lily when they run into each other in an empty corridor that has only one door at the end of it.

“Hey, Lily,” he says gently, “how’s your night been?”

Lily smiles back.

“Hey, Lupin. Not too bad. How is yours?” 

He smiles and is about to answer when he sees the door at the end of the corridor open slowly, soundless. Sirius comes out of the room, looking straight into Remus’ eyes, the enigmatic smile dancing on his lips. He just stays there for a second, before getting back into the classroom, leaving the door ajar.

“I, uh…” he trails off, and Lily looks at him, a puzzled smile on her face. She turns, following Remus’ gaze when Sirius is already out of sight.

“Did you see something?” she asks, frowning.

“Mhm” he recovers quickly, his mind prepared to lie after years with the Marauders. “Just a ghost, though. I’ll go and check that it’s not Peeves causing havoc. Why don’t you go on and finish your round, Lily? It’s pretty late, you should be back in the tower already. I’ll go check and I’ll catch you in a sec.”

And without waiting for an answer, giving one last reassuring nod, he walks briskly to the door, smiling to himself.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! please let me know what you think about it :)


End file.
